Barren Land
by Ophium
Summary: 1978. Mary is shopping for oranges when she receives an interesting visit. Read the warnings inside. Complete.


**AN: READ THESE WARNINGS!!!!**

The idea was from Caithream, who asked '___Why exactly are Sam and Dean the true vessels of Lucifer and Michael?' _

That idea, together with some spoilers and a lot of speculation on coming episodes, resulted in to this short story. The spoilers are barely there (in fact, unless you are a very strict and purist spoiler-phobe, you won't even notice them. If you are, this is the part where you turn back ;O)

I should also warn, for those more sensitive, that this story is set shortly after Mary finds out that she is pregnant with her first child. There's some pretty heavy implications that she wasn't planning on having him at all.

Beta read by Jackfan2 *smishes her*. All remaining mistakes, their all mine, mine, MINE!!! *insert mad laugh of choice*

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**BARREN LAND**

"Hello, Mary."

Mary looked up from the pile of oranges from which she was picking up her shopping to the man in front of her. He was tall, dark and handsome. She was not impressed. He also knew her name, even though they had never met.

Still, she batted her eyes seductively, eager to deflect her careful search for possible weapons concealed on the man, for things that she could use as a weapon, for innocent bystanders, for back-up. Five years had passed since she'd stopped hunting, and still all of her instincts were those of a hunter. Mary feared that they would forever be. "Do I know you?"

"In a way, yes," the man said, a thoughtful smile in his face. "In a way, you've been expecting me."

Mary took a step back, glaring at the man. The Yellow-Eyed demon had said ten years.... ten years... she still had five more. It was too soon.

"I am not a demon," the man stated. It seemed like an odd thing to say in the middle of a supermarket, but no one was really paying attention to them. No one was listening. "I need you to come with me."

Mary snorted. It was a very un-ladylike thing to do, but no one in her family ever really cared about that. She looked at the man, quietly waiting for her to follow him, just like that. And that in itself was... intriguing.

He knew her name, he knew about demons, he seemed to even know what was on her mind... there was no way she would trust him. Not with knowing what she knew, what her father and mother had taught her.

There were only two types of beings that would know about demons and who she was: monsters and hunters. She wasn't interested in dealing with either.

And yet, the level of confidence that the man showed, certain that she would believe his word just because he said so, and that she would trust him enough to go with him anywhere...

It had been five years since he had even crossed her mind, but this man before her now, his mannerisms and pose, reminded her of Dean.

Dean, the strange hunter who had showed up out of nowhere with information about things that no one should really know; that had saved her and her dad from dying at the demon's hands and who had, just as mysteriously, vanished in to thin air.

"Why would I do that?" Mary asked, her voice lacking the sarcasm that she thought would lace every single one of her words. The all thing was stirring up thoughts and feelings that she had worked very hard to keep hidden, to keep lock up in order to give herself and John a chance to be happy.

"Because I can save your children, Mary," he said, his dark eyes trapping hers with a single look.

The oranges in Mary's hands dropped to the floor and rolled away, unchecked, unimportant. Her hand curled around her flat belly, automatic gesture that Mary wasn't even aware of. How could he know of that? She hadn't even told John...

Mary's eyes filled with sudden tears. She hadn't even told John and she wasn't planning to tell.

Ten years, the Yellow-Eyed demon had said. Ten years and he would be back to take something away from her. Mary knew she couldn't afford to have anything with her that she couldn't stand to lose. Like a child.

She knew it was selfish of her; she knew John would never understand. But she also knew that the pain of loosing a child because she had had a moment of weakness and had made a deal with that disgusting being... she –_them_- would never survive that.

No matter how much her heart agreed with John, no matter how much she wished and longed to start a family with him, Mary knew that she couldn't. She couldn't risk that.

Her hand clawed over her belly, trying to grab the small life that she knew was growing inside. The small life that she had decided would never see the light and cruelty of this world. "I have no children," she told the man resolutely. Her voice barely trembled as she lied.

The stranger cut the distance between them in a gentle step and placed his hand over Mary's. Any other man and she would've twisted his arm away from her until the sweet sound of bone snapping filled the air.

She couldn't move though. Nor did she want to move. His touch felt like a cold shower after a long day in the sun; like a soft bed after a hard day working; a cold drink of water after being thirsty for too long. "Who are you?" Mary whispered.

"My name is Michael," he said, the sound carrying a finality that went beyond the mere name. "And I need to show you something."

Mary's blue-green eyes grew round. She knew who he was, _what_ he was. But those were just stories, tales passed from mother to daughter, from generations before. Children's tales, like the Colt.

But then again... she had held the Colt in her hands, only a few years ago...

"It wasn't real... it was just a story... you can't be real," Mary said, her head shaking left and right but her eyes unable to leave his face. He couldn't be real and yet...

"I am as real as the morning dew until the day chases it away, real as the warmth of sun even though it stands in a distant sky," Michael said, his smile never wavering, his touch never leaving. "The time has come, Mary."

"Time for what?" Mary found herself asking, even though she knew the answer.

It was a family story of sorts, older than the Campbell's arrival to America, older than their decision to leave England. A story told by an old man who had seen a bright light and listened to what it said to him. A man who had believed and thought to be insane by everyone but family.

The man's name had become lost in the retelling of the tale, but two things were never forgotten: what he heard and that he was their blood.

"'_Your blood shall bear the seeds of the end. Your blood shall bear the seeds of the beginning. Your blood shall bear the light of the Creator and will stand blinded by its presence'_" The man repeated the same words that Mary had already heard from her mother, that she'd already heard from her grandmother.

She had rolled her eyes and laughed then. She had nothing but tears to shed now. "No—"

"I'm sorry, Mary," Michael said, his hand lifting from her belly only to reach up to her forehead and touch two fingers to her skin. "You must see to understand."

Mary gasped and suddenly, she was no longer at the supermarket. She wasn't sure if she was even on Earth. Around her, there was nothing but barren land, rolls of dust chasing each other like bored kids. The silence was overwhelming, even though she was sure that she should, at least, be hearing the rustling of the wind. But even the wind was mute.

The sky above was nothing but a black veil. No stars, no moon, no life.

"Where are we?" Mary whispered, self-conscious of breaking such ominous silence. It felt wrong, as if human voices no longer belonged there.

"Lawrence, Kansas, 2010," Michael said, standing at her side.

Mary blinked. It didn't even register that he'd mentioned a date that was more than thirty years in the future. This was her town, her home. And she couldn't see a single mark of that. Gone were the buildings, the trees... even the hills that framed the town... all gone.

"What happened? Where are all the people?" She asked, unconsciously stepping closer to Michael. This place was dead. She didn't want to stay there alone. She couldn't bare to left there.

"The end of days."

Mary turned from the desolated earth to look at Michael. His eyes were shinning with unshed tears.

"This is the future than can be... this is the future that can not come to be... this is the future in which your bloodline has been erased."

Mary swallowed, spit turned to dust in just the few minutes that she had stood in that place of torment. And all because... she and John had had no children? Was he really asking of her what she thought he was? Did he really want her children to exist, only to be sacrificed in order to stop this future from happening? Because that had worked _so well_ for that other Mary...

"Yes," Michael whispered, even though she hadn't said a word.

"Why me? Why my family?" Mary asked. It wasn't fair. She'd already lost so much... her family had already given so much. Her parents, her uncles, her grandparents... John...

"Because some things are written since the beginning of time and to change them would be like changing time itself... your family was chosen, Mary Winchester... do not see it as a curse."

"How can I see it as anything else?"

"Because what is, is, and only a few special ones can ever dream to affect the outcome of what is meant to be... that is not a curse, Mary, it is a gift. Will you accept it?"

Mary looked around her. It was hard to imagine that place as ever having bared life. It was impossible to imagine the numbers of people, entire populations, that no longer existed. It was impossible to conceive that her child, that the small life that still barely stirred inside her womb, would ever have a hand in all of this.

"You said you could save them?" Mary asked, her voice all but a whisper. _Them_... dear lord, she would be dooming not one, but more. How could she? "Can you protect them?"

Michael nodded, his eyes holding too much pain for Mary to feel comforted. "I can do my best," he voiced. It sounded like a promise.

Mary looked down, hoping that the darkened dirt might provide some sort of answer. Not even the cockroaches had survived, she noticed.

Mary had left home that day, set on buying all that was needed to make John a nice dinner and love him as hard and as completely as she could until the night fell away. It wouldn't be atonement enough for what she was planning to rob him of, but it was all that she could offer.

Now... she had to decide on whether to condemn their children to a life of misery and pain or risk the fate of the entire world.

Her eyes landed once again on Michael, whose gaze was also lost in the bare land. Tears were rolling freely down his cheeks, as if he remembered what had happened there. What would happen there. Mary couldn't even stand to imagine it.

His dark eyes landed on her, unmoving, everlasting, broken. "Remember this, Mary, and promise me something..." Michael said, his voice deep with emotion, his fingers brushing against hers.

It felt like happiness and light had been more than destroyed. It was as if they'd never even existed.

Mary found herself nodding, if only that small gesture could do something for the sadness in his eyes. "Yes," she whispered.

"Allow this child to be born... allow his brother to follow," Michael said, staring deeply in to her eyes. "Trust in them to stop this future from ever existing."

Mary blinked against the harsh lights of the supermarket. The orange in her hand had turned to mush, juice running through her fingers and dropping in a puddle on the floor. She sagged against the fruit stand, glad to be back amongst the living, dreading what the future held.

And yet... she couldn't really help the smile that overtook her lips. Two sons... she would have two sons.

Dropping all the things that she had gathered so far, Mary raced out of the supermarket, ignoring the disapproving and glaring stares of the people around. She didn't care.

She needed to see John. Tell him everything. Tell him that he was going to be a father.

The end


End file.
